


Running On Empty

by ohjustdisarmalready



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Character Study, Emergency Management When Everyone Involved Is Traumatized, Gen, Immediate Aftermath of Movie, M/M, Post-Canon, Recovery, What Do We Do With A Wartime Leader, let him coordinate rescue ops i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 16:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20997617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustdisarmalready/pseuds/ohjustdisarmalready
Summary: The Promare had kept him burning for so long. What else is there, when they're gone?Lio can't be sure yet, but in the meantime, he has his people to save and protect. One more time.





	Running On Empty

**Author's Note:**

> This could be the first chapter of a three-part fic, but I think I'm happy with it as a oneshot. There are some plot hints in there for the whole of it, though.
> 
> Also, someone stop me before I write a undertale au for Promare. Undertale isn't even cool anymore;;;;;help
> 
> Guide: Lio says "Burnish"; non-Burnish say "Burnished." "Leadener" is what the Burnish call someone who isn't Burnish.

Maybe, in hindsight, _promising_ to rebuild the world was easier than actually _doing_ it.

Maybe. But Galo feels pretty invincible with Lio by his side, and his hand tingles in a way that’s nothing like pins and needles where they touch.

The setting sun on his skin, his Rescue squad there beneath them, Lio standing with him…the future just looks so…

“Colorful,” he says, almost without meaning to. Lio glances up at him and cocks an eyebrow.

After the frigid gray of the Parnassus, and the threat of ash over everything, and even his once-hero’s pristine, white uniform—Galo thinks they could use something with a little more color.

And Lio’s black-on-black uniform is pretty much destroyed, so.

“Our future is going to be colorful!” Galo jostles Lio’s shoulder, trusting that he won’t fall.

“Colorful,” Lio says, with his gem-bright eyes, and his mint green hair, with something of the pink and green fire he’d wielded—the fire he’d saved Galo’s life with, the fire they’d used to save everything—still in him, even now.

“I could live with that.”

* * *

They can’t stay there and stare at the setting sun forever, optimistic future or no. Lio seems to be the only one to realize this; all of the people he’s just met (and Galo) are content to stand there pensively. Maybe he would be, too, under different circumstances.

But the fire of a disappearing sun calls out to him still—calls out to the empty place inside of his heart where the Promare had nestled and kept him warm. Kept him running, almost. When he had nothing left to give and the fire was all that fueled him, the combustion inside him still pushed him ever forwards, ever onwards, like an engine.

No. His skin crawls even thinking it. The Promare were nothing like an engine. They were more like a…

Well. The Promare had kept him going like a fire. Even when all of Lio was worn and weak, the fire had always given him the energy he needed to save his people. As long as Lio gave it something to burn—his rage, his fear, his love—it was bright and hot and powerful. It was everything he needed, which was good, because it was all he had.

What will fuel him now, he wonders. When Lio is human and failing, what will he burn to protect his people?

No matter. If the Burnish—the former Burnish—_the Burnish_ can live in freedom and peace, he’ll do it. And the first step to that is to make sure the Burnish can live.

Lio separates himself from Galo as gently as he knows how and moves to pick his way down through the rubble. Before he’s made three steps, Galo seems to realize where he’s going.

“Oh! The Bur—uh, the people in the engines! Guys, there’s people in the engines!” Galo waves over to his crew, and all of a sudden there’s a flurry of movement. “Lio, come on, you can get in the—yeah, okay, towards the engine room, all those triangles are—”

One of the young women is talking across him, sitting with a mouse (why?) at a control panel, but Lio can only hear half of what she’s saying over the team’s chatter and the engines. Is she piloting?

The woman with the pink hair had hopped into another vehicle, but Lio can see her on the screen, and the older man is giving orders, coordinating the team. He seems to be the default authority, or maybe just the last one standing. The whole squad looks up to him, at least.

Then again, Lio can assume the whole squad had looked up to Forethought, too.

Whatever. Not a problem yet—the chief can be assumed neutral until Lio isn’t in his team’s vehicle, using their resources to rescue his own people.

He’ll have to stay vigilant. For now, though, things are moving around him very quickly, and Galo sees no problem with tugging Lio into a mech seconds before it lurches into motion.

“Where are we going?” Lio demands of a laughing Galo.

“To the rescue! Come on, I’ll show you a firefighter’s burning—”

Lio is not above violence. If he hears that catchphrase one more time, he’ll show Galo a _burning soul_.

He ignores the tiny smile that lights his face, the conviction Galo practically radiates. The Burnish are ahead, and Galo is already doing something with the mechanics to anticipate their landing.

Lio doesn’t actually know how to pilot a mech. The fire—the Promare—had always been happy to take care of the details if he’d simply provide a direction.

Not important right now. Lio is good at two things: there may not be fire anymore to answer his call, but there are people he can protect. Just, less arson now. Or no arson, even.

What a strange world he and Galo have created.

Lio can feel the Burnish ahead even as pink triangles come into view. Their souls call out to him.

“There,” he points, and Galo performs an improbable feat of piloting to get them to the wall of cells, and even to the two cells Lio is pointing at, dead center. Maybe Forethought wanted them to see the engine of this atrocity even as he turned them to dust by inches. Maybe it was a chance placement.

Lio doesn’t care. Meis and Gueira lift their heads as the mech lands on the wall in front of them with a _crunch_—Galo wouldn’t have let that hit any of the Burnish, he _wouldn’t_, it’s fine—and they immediately begin struggling against their bonds, as they must have been earlier.

Lio can’t hear what they’re saying through the barrier. Now that the Burnishes’ collective deaths aren’t calling him to action, now that the Promare aren’t here to aid him, he’s a just a man, hardly different from any other. All he can feel in that place in his heart is that his (friends) generals are here, that they are alive, and that he will need them.

Even that ignites a tiny spark in his chest.

Galo says something to the other Rescue people, back and forth over the comm, and Lio leans forward and nods to Meis and Gueira.

It’s the nod that’s meant _I’ll get us through this, trust me_ a hundred times before.

Gueira makes a motion that is unmistakably a cheer, and Meis slumps a little, relieved, and the spark Lio’s heart lights into a weak, flickering flame. Lio almost wishes it had been intentional that the pink field restraining them disappears a moment later.

“Boss!” Gueira calls as soon as he’s free. “You—”

“Meis, Gueira, once we get you down to ground level I need you to start receiving survivors. Keep them in sight for now. Meis, see about identifying survivors.”

He can see Meis and Gueira, human people, exhausted, relieved; and he can see the moment they’re replaced by the right and left hand of the Mad Burnish. None of them have time to relax yet. And as long as he needs them, they’ll follow him.

Galo offers Meis and Gueira a mechanical hand down and the candle-flame in Lio’s heart isn’t flickering so much anymore. Maybe this is something he can do before that little flame goes out.

It was never in doubt that he’d come back for them, that he’ll do what he has to—whatever he has to. Lio will be what the Burnish need from him, for as long as that need exists. He will see his people safe and free.

But it’s looking like he might manage that Herculean feat even before his fire goes out, and that’s…that’s a thought he’s never had before. What if Lio still has something left to give, when the Burnish don’t need a saboteur and infiltrator and scout and rescuer? Where will he go?

Galo cheers as he pilots the mech to the ground floor of the _Parnassus_’s engine, the only space stable enough to drop anyone safely. He’s a rescuer, too, who’ll be out of work with no more Burnish fires to put out. Maybe the two of them will be able to figure it out together.

The thought is…not unappealing.

Meis and Gueira are in action as soon as their feet touch the ground, looking at the rubble and clearing the area for more survivors. Galo offers Lio a grin that lights up his whole face.

“Which one next?”

Lio hardly needs to think. The strongest need pulls him towards one of those triangles, and when he gives the direction, Galo brings them there.

Rescuers. Maybe with less firefighting than Galo is used to, and certainly with less arson than Lio would consider normal, but a new kind of rescuer is emerging in the space between. A kind of rescuer that may still exist once the crisis is over.

A colorful future, indeed.

* * *

Lio seems pretty stoic as he points out which of the Burnish need immediate medical attention, which should be freed quickly after one another so they can meet their family and friends again, which triangles not to open right now.

Galo kind of wants to know how he knows, because that would be _so much cooler_ than heat vision goggles on rescues, but also, Lio’s been through kind of a lot today. Now isn’t the best time to stop and chat. Especially not when there’s rescuing to be done!

Chief tries to tell Galo to stop and rest just once, after he and Lio have only rescued half a dozen people and the others have just arrived. He’s not halfway through speaking when Lio lurches and a cry sounds through one of the others’ mics. Varys.

“Just—don’t, you’ll—_wait_ a second, just calm—”

Lio is shifting like he’ll jump out of the mech and _sprint_ to the problem if Galo doesn’t hurry up, and Galo can hardly leave his teammate in distress. He’s moving in an instant, instinctively following Lio’s movement until he can see the problem.

Varys is on scene not far away, but way up from them. He’s going down the top row of the engine maybe a thousand feet from the ground. Lucia’s deactivated the first cell so he can take the Burnish inside down to the huddled group being shepherded by Lio’s friends below. Doesn’t look like any of the other cells have been opened yet.

This Burnish—is he even a Burnish? Doesn’t matter. He’s a little kid with bandages over one eye. Either the Promare didn’t heal him before they left, or he was too young to do that, or something. It can’t be a recent wound because of the bandages, so it can wait until they can get him to a real doctor.

The real problem is that the kid is struggling, squirming against the recue mech. This wasn’t exactly a normal rescue call; they’ve had to make do with backup mechs, and Varys can only hold the kid so tight without hurting him. Especially with how hard he’s fighting and crying.

Poor guy’s probably had a longer day than any of them. Galo brings his mech around to cover the fall and flips up the cockpit visor. He’s pretty good with kids. He can convince the kid they’re on the same side, right? Or at least that the fall is worse than Varys?

The instant the visor is up, the child whips around. Oops. That is pretty noisy from the outside. Fuck, Galo hopes they haven’t scared him even worse.

At least he’s still now, just staring wide-eyed at the mech.

“I know, pretty cool, right? It’s a—Hey! Lio, wait!”

Galo cuts himself off as Lio darts out of the mech, hopping nimbly up Galo’s arm and over to Varys’s. The kid reaches out to him, all struggle gone, and Lio is able to pick him up around the torso.

Varys is quick enough on his feet to let go just in time for Lio to whisk the kid up. It’s a feat of timing: not early enough to drop one or both of them, not late enough that Lio can overbalance trying to get the kid unstuck from the claw. A half second off and both Burnished would have fallen, and Lio can’t fly them to safety anymore.

Is this how everyone feels when Galo does a risky rescue? He might owe some people an apology. Not that he’s going to _stop_, because that was also _completely badass_, but he should probably be sorry about the heart attacks he’s causing.

Still, as Lio picks his way—slowly and carefully this time, mindful of the kid he’s carrying all wrong in his arms, has this guy never _seen_ a child before?—back to the cockpit, and Galo moves the mech’s arms to make an easy path, he can only feel proud.

No one’s looking but the team, and they’ve seen how crazy good Lio is before, but Galo can’t help grinning.

_He’s with me_. It’s the two of them together that make this work, as Lio awkwardly puts the kid down in the cockpit and Galo waves.

“Hi! I’m a fir—I’m a rescuer! Lio and I are gonna get you down soon to your—” he glances up at Lio, and Lio shakes his head solemnly. Not sure if the kid’s got anyone down there, okay, Galo can work with that. “to, uh, the ground! You don’t wanna be up here anymore, do you?”

The kid glances up at Lio, the motion obvious in the small space, and Lio looks flatly back.

Oh, this guy is _terrible_ with children. Good thing Galo’s here, then! Teamwork makes the dream work!

“Right! Have you ever wanted to see how a mech works? We’re gonna go on a ride, isn’t that cool?” Galo calls the kid’s attention back to himself, and he doesn’t think he’s imagining Lio’s relief. The others are even keeping the chatter on the comms down, but Galo’s pretty sure that’s not gonna make a lick of difference if the kid decides Lio hasn’t okayed this trip.

He offers up his most winning grin and says, “Isn’t that right, Lio? Isn’t riding in a mech _fun_?”

Lio gives Galo a strange look, but then looks down to the kid, who’s staring at them with one wary eye.

Lio’s smile is the least convincing thing Galo’s ever seen from him, but at least he’s trying. “Right! This is going to be…a lot of fun. For you. Yes. It’s like a…toy?”

This he addresses to the kid, though he glances at Galo every few words, as if to check. Galo gives Lio an encouraging look, and the kid shuffles even closer to him and latches on to one of the million buckles on his boot.

Good enough for now.

“We’re good, guys,” Galo tells the others, starting a careful, not-scary climb down. Maybe another time he can show off his cool mech. When the kid isn’t freshly traumatized from being used as jet fuel for a different giant mechanical thing.

Galo keeps up a running commentary on the way down, noting how Varys gets to the ground, too, and the others stop to reconvene. Hard to say whether the kid enjoys it or not, but he holds onto Lio’s buckle and stares at everything around him, so that’s…probably good. Yeah.

Once they get to the ground, Galo is a bit worried about detaching him, but Lio seems to have that in hand—with a quick flash of silver, the kid is holding a buckle that is no longer attached to Lio’s boot, and when Lio points and says “Go,” he goes.

Galo has a lot of questions, but mostly, “You’ve had a _knife_ this whole time?”

Lio graces him with a disdainful look. “It’s for emergencies.”

“None of this has been an _emergency_?” Galo asks.

“Not the kind that a knife would help with.”

Galo can’t actually fault his logic for that one. Lio’s gotten himself out of pretty much every scrape he’s gotten into today with Burnish fire, and the rest he was incapacitated or dying for. Not much room for knives.

Still.

“You could have told me you have a _knife_.” Galo pouts.

“I have a knife,” Lio says, dry as the desert.

”You’re telling me that _now_, you—”

“_Children_,” Ignis interrupts over the comm. Both Galo and Lio turn to scowl at him, indignant.

“Lio, are all the Burnish going to be resistant to rescue?” Ignis asks.

Lio bristles at the comm screen, nearly snarling. “If you’re asking whether we’ll be happy to let Leadeners in machines pluck us up and move us around after today, then—”

He’s poised to summon a weapon that will never come, and his stance has shifted to accommodate armor that isn’t there anymore. His eyes are still gem-bright, but suddenly they’re hard and sharp as shattered glass.

“Whoa, whoa!” Galo puts his hand on Lio’s arm, and Lio glances over to him, startled. Searching. At least he’s not immediately trying to break out of the mech and burn everything to the ground until he thinks the surviving Burnish are safe. It’s not all Mad Burnish in there yet, just _mostly_ Mad Burnish. 89%. Maybe 99%.

By the look on his face, Galo has about ten seconds to keep this from going _so far south_.

“What he’s saying is, do we need to get nets, or be careful that no one falls and gets hurt, or—that’s just, ‘resistant to rescue’ is just the paperwork way of saying it, ‘cause there’s a lot of reasons someone might panic when we’re trying to save them, right? And we don’t want to make any of their—of you guys’ days worse than they already are,” he blurts out.

Lio continues to stare at him evenly, deliberating. Maybe down to 60% ‘burn the world to ash’ now.

Or he’s deliberating on where to start. Hard to say. But at least he hasn’t taken Galo’s hand off of him. While they’re connected, Galo has a chance to convince him.

“Just let us know what you need and we’ll make sure we can rescue you, right? We’re here to help. ‘cause that’s what a Rescue Squad does!” Galo grins hopefully, not letting on to how much he’s sweating.

_Trust me, trust me, come on, Lio, work with me here_. Galo wants to build this new world with Lio—he wants it like nothing else.

But it’s gonna be _really hard to do_ if Lio goes back to being an international terrorist on day one.

It’ll be even harder if Lio won’t let anyone help him.

Lio trusts him, he’s sure of it. And he must trust the Rescue Squad at least a little, through Galo.

But he’s also the leader of the Mad Burnished for who knows how many years, and a Burnished himself, and an angry young man who’s just lost the part of him that lets him protect himself and his kin. Galo wouldn’t really blame him for not wanting to work with total strangers just on Galo’s word. Not when almost every Burnished in the world just got used for jet fuel.

He wouldn’t blame him, but he’d be a little disappointed.

Lio stands on the knife’s edge for a moment longer, looking between Galo and Ignis with wariness that’s tiring just to look at. But after that moment, as Galo’s cocky smile turns a touch brittle, he relents.

His shoulders relax stiffly, deliberately, and his guarded stance straightens out to his regular straight-backed composure.

“Of course,” Lio says. “Rescuing the innocent is what you do. I’m certain that no harm will come to the Burnish under your care.”

The _or I’ll light your shoes on fire_ remains unstated. But it’s a start.

* * *

“We Burnish don’t often trust organizations dedicated to ‘dealing with’ us or our fires. Covering the logos on your uniforms would be a wise first step,” Lio starts carefully. It’s important to establish whether Galo’s coworkers will prioritize their own recognition over the rescues they’ll be making.

The Chief just nods. “Sensible. What else?”

Efficient and canny. Lio wouldn’t be surprised if he’d seen past the surface of that request.

“What?!? Won’t people want to know we’re here to save them?” Galo protests.

“We can explain to them once they’re out. Would _you_ want the government to save you, knowing what you know now?” asks a man with glasses and a serious face.

One of the squad members seems to have a good head on their shoulders, at least. Lio notes the man down. You never know when it’ll be useful to know who’s quick on their feet and intuitive.

“Right, I guess,” Galo admits, though he doesn’t look happy about it.

Fine, he doesn’t have to like it. As long as the Burnish are safe, Lio doesn’t care. He doesn’t.

He’s not going to risk even one life over his feelings about some boy he met less than a month ago. No matter how compassionate, and brave, and bold, and…not going there. It’s unthinkable.

“It’s way more important that we don’t scare anyone into falling, anyway! A real hero cares more about saving people than any logo! Once we’ve saved everyone, they’ll know us by our burning spirits, and they won’t have to be scared anymore!” Galo strikes a pose, and Lio has to duck to avoid a sweeping arm.

_Oh, no_, Lio thinks, in some distant corner of his mind, as his face heats up. _He’s hot. And an idiot. He’s a hot idiot_.

The fire in his heart is so bright now, he could almost believe the Promare are back with him. Is this what Galo means when he talks about his ‘burning soul’? If so, Lio would be talking about it all the time, too.

Wow.

Wait, what? Everyone is looking at him. Fuck. Right. Job to do. No time to be distracted by a pretty face. Or the first non-Burnish he’s met in a long time that he thinks might actually be a genuinely good person.

Maybe. Something to follow up on later.

“What else should we prepare for?” the older man prompts, when it becomes clear that Lio doesn’t have a response to whatever was going on before.

“Right. Uh.” He shakes off the daze. “I can tell you which of the bottom cells you can open right now. Those Burnish can meet with the others in the center. Meis and Gueira are starting a field shelter. Don’t open the others until we have something to keep the ashes from blowing away. Someone will want them.”

There are murmurs over the screen, and Lio remembers Galo’s shock when he’d learned of the fate of every fallen Burnish. Have none of these people met any Burnish at all?

Whatever. Not his problem. As long as they help him, he doesn’t care.

“Some of us have some experience with field medicine, but we mostly used the fire—the Promare to heal ourselves. If anyone with medical experience can be spared, their aid would be…helpful. Do not attempt to move anyone who does not absolutely need to be taken away. I won’t promise that any Burnish will let you take away our brethren.” He wouldn’t, at least.

Not that he could really stop them. Lio is resourceful, but he can’t personally guard thousands of people without the fire fueling him. Certainly, he can’t guard them against an entire city. He’ll need to think of something for that, and fast.

“Understandable. We can set up a temporary command center in the ship with medical tents, will that be sufficient? Do you have any idea what kinds of injuries we’ll see?” the Chief asks.

One of the squad members is already making calls in the background—Lio hears ‘shock blankets’ and curses himself. Right. They can get cold now.

They’ll need to watch that; Lio isn’t sure he’s ever known what to do about hypothermia. Much less what hypothermia looks like…ice will start forming before it’s too bad, right?

The emergency medical people will know. Lio can check on them once everyone is free. It’s more important to get everyone safely out of those hellish cells right now.

“Missing fingers and toes, up to entire limbs. Maybe burns? If a person is…grey-ish, get me. Don’t touch them. I’ll be with Galo,” he decides. He doesn’t know if he can do his old healing trick—with the fire he feels in his soul, he almost feels like he could. It’s better to try than not, anyway.

“I can also tell you who needs help most immediately, and who’s less likely to fight you. If anyone doesn’t want to go, _get me first_. They’ll follow me.” There’s not a Burnish alive that wouldn’t, because Forethought killed them all. Him and the other Leadeners before him.

The Burnish who sought out Lio—or rather, the Mad Burnish—for shelter are the only ones left.

“Right. Anything else?” the Chief asks.

“Talk to Meis and Gueira to keep track of the needs and numbers of the survivors. If you can’t find them, they’re the ones that will stop you if you approach the camp. I wouldn’t suggest forcing the issue.” Lio can trust his generals to make the judgement call on how to work with the response personnel. They’ll do what’s necessary, and summon him if they can’t.

“I will. Team, start rescues at the bottom up—the less distance there is to fall, the better. Note any survivors who seem hostile and call Galo to help out. Mad Burnish, if you’ll point out which cells to start with,” the Chief says. Lio can appreciate his rapid, no-nonsense manner.

He can appreciate more that no one suggests he leave Galo’s mech for a more supervisory position, even if that’s more logical, strictly speaking. He won’t be kept from his people, and he doesn’t want to leave Galo’s side, either.

Just for efficiency’s sake. They work well together.

And because when Galo grins at him and launches to the next cell, working with him to do what he was born to do, the world seems to burst into color and warmth.

In Lio’s chest, a sun bursts into life.

**Author's Note:**

> There are some great fics out there that have Lio taking over as the representative for the Burnish in the new world, which I think are cool. But I see him more as a wartime leader who's ultimately a really traumatized young man. His real-world skills amount to extreme survival, refugee coordination, sabotage, and control over magic fire that doesn't exist anymore.
> 
> These are extremely useful skills when your people are facing genocide. They are less helpful when negotiating peace. Therefore, may I posit: an Real Adult takes over peacetime leadership of the Burnish, and Lio has time without the pressure of everyone's lives depending on him to learn how to live like he wants to see tomorrow.
> 
> That all happens after this oneshot. Pretend I wrote that part, too, okay? And it was bomb as hell. And as always, please let me know what you liked!


End file.
